


Secret Messages

by coffeestainsfoggeduppanes



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Aussie represent, Boys In Love, Can we have more people on the DemonKing bandwagon please, Cutesy, Cuties, Established Relationship, Fluff, I just want them to be happy, M/M, Sappy, Secret Relationship, Short & Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, happy and in love, is that too much to ask, these two are so adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:07:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23690551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeestainsfoggeduppanes/pseuds/coffeestainsfoggeduppanes
Summary: Boring team meetings means that Nick is taking Alex's hand (there's really nothing else to it).
Relationships: Alex de Minaur/Nick Kyrgios
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Secret Messages

**Author's Note:**

> That ATP Cup doubles match against Great Britain was actually *the best*.

He made it seem really casual. Like he wasn’t thinking about it even though he was. He was _very much_ thinking about it. But Nick was good at things like that, putting on that aloof, cold demeanour for the cameras.

And he did that now, his game face on, as he reached for Alex’s hand.

His fellow Aussie flinched only a little, his fingers startling as Nick carefully shifted De Minaur’s hand onto his knee. Nick’s own hand hovers over it, but he still refuses to look at it directly.

It stayed there.

Nick let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

All right.

Great.

Awesome.

That means this is okay. That means he didn’t think it was wrong. That means he doesn’t mind his hand there. Right?

They were in the middle of some game-plan meeting with their team, Hewitt standing before them and going off about teamwork or loyalty or something. They both had their eyes trained on their captain, pretending to look, to the best of their abilities, as interested as possible in his scheming. Alex probably _was_ interested, being the more competitive one of the two, but right now, his pulse was racing against Nick’s skin, and Nick didn’t think it was because of the ATP Cup doubles match tomorrow.

At least he hopes not, because his heart is thundering, too, and it was definitely because he has Alex’s hand on his knee.

It took a lot of courage but dammit, he had faced his idol eight times, defeated the World Number 1 twice, and slandered Toni Nadal’s name at a press conference, so if anybody had the guts to do this, it was him.

Nick took his forefinger and drew a squiggle on the back of Alex’s hand. He could see the cogs working in the younger man’s mind, De Minaur’s eyes blinking rapidly now and trying to make sense of what was going on.

‘H I.’ Nick wrote carefully onto his pale skin. It took a while but then Alex smiled, ever so slightly. It took an even longer while, but Alex then traced a finger over Nick’s knee for his own message. Nick hoped he didn’t notice the shiver that seemed to ripple throughout his body. 

‘S U P.’

Ever so casual.

‘O K ?’

That could mean, ‘How are you?’. That could mean, ‘How are you finding this boring-ass meeting?’. That could also mean ‘Is it alright that I’ve just taken your hand and put it on my knee, and I am now writing words on it as if we are sending each other secret messages in Year 5?’—and, although not a big believer in that fairy-tale-wishing-upon-the-stars mumbo-jumbo, Nick was _really_ praying to his lucky stars that Alex was getting that last one.

Alex shifted a little, so he was even closer to Nick and had a better handle of his stolen limb, their knees now just inches apart. He drew a smiley face. At least, that’s what Nick interpreted. God knows this was probably not the best way to communicate. What was he even drawing a smiley face as a response to? This isn’t the first time Nick second thought his decisions.

After some contemplation, he drew one right back, but this time tried to add horns—De Minaur’s signature demon symbol. He knew Alex would appreciate that. His doubles partner grinned, eyes sparkling in that way it did which Nick liked so much. Alex had to awkwardly hide a chuckle escaping his lips with a cough, but it was much too sudden to be natural and Hewitt whipped his attention to the youngsters that always seemed to be causing him trouble (well, not Alex, the darling, but he was really starting to question Alex’s taste in friends).

“You okay, Alex?” He asked, genuinely concerned. Alex had just played a killer singles match today and with dubs following it almost immediately after this, he was conscious of the kid’s endurance. Though, he did not acclaim De Minaur as a prodigy for nothing.

“Yeah, of course, totally,” Alex said a little too loudly, fake-coughing into the hand he snatched away from Kyrgios’ knee. They both shifted slightly to the opposite of each other, hiding any evidence of their interaction. Hewitt seemed to buy it, returning right back into his spiel about teamwork or loyalty or something.

The rush of blood in Kyrgios’ ears thumped so loudly he almost didn’t notice Alex’s hand returning to his knee, his cool skin seeming to sear Nick’s own. Nick didn’t even bother pretending to pay attention to Hewitt as he stared at Alex’s forefinger.

It traced his skin in fluid motions, leaving behind, in the faintest white line, the shape of a heart.

Nick had to bite down on his tongue to keep himself from smiling too hard.

**Author's Note:**

> The cooler-than-you, suave Nick actually being the bumbling lovesick fool is the type of content I need, okay.


End file.
